


Paper Planes and Shrubbery

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 11:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: 'Mondo writes an instruction to ‘check the side of his neck’ and tosses the plane back. Aoi receives it, reads and then peers at Hifumi’s neck, prompting Mondo to grimace.“Not him,” mutters Mondo. She turns back to him, her brow quirked, and Mondo tears himself a clean slate of paper. He writes quickly, constructs a second paper plane, and throws it to her.When she unfolds it, Makoto sees the name written clearly.“Togami?” blurts Aoi.'Togami come to class with a strange mark on his neck. 🤔





	Paper Planes and Shrubbery

The grey morning captures Makoto’s mood perfectly as he sits at his desk, gazing out of the window as he waits for their maths teacher to enter the classroom. It isn’t raining, which would be at least a bit more exciting, though the chattering around him reminds him of the sound of rain drumming on the window. Lessons aren’t compulsory but most of the class have arrived by now, and when the door opens, Makoto turns, expecting to see their teacher, Nejireruno-sensei.

Instead, Byakuya emerges into the room and strides over to his desk, passing Makoto as he does so. Makoto watches him absentmindedly, but when Byakuya gets close enough, Makoto tenses and swears he glimpsed a blemish on Byakuya’s neck.

Without flinging out a single greeting, Byakuya sits at the desk in front of Touko, who peeks up from her notebook to ogle his back.

Touko and Makoto aren't the only ones staring at him. Most of the class is.

“Hey,” says Leon, craning his neck. Byakuya doesn’t acknowledge him, or even seem to notice. Leon squints. “Is that...?”

Just then, Nejireruno-sensei walks in and demands silence for roll call. Once that’s out of the way, she turns to the whiteboard, and as soon as her back is firmly toward her students, a paper plane flies over Makoto’s head, originating from Leon.

Hifumi catches the place. He unfolds it, reads quickly and locks onto Byakuya’s neck. His eyes widen as he lets out a small gasp, and he writes on it before folding it up again and throwing it back in the direction it came from.

Well. Approximately in that direction.

Leon nearly falls off his chair sideways as he stretches out to nab it. Despite the minor disturbance, Nejireruno-sensei doesn’t seem to notice, continuing to write on the whiteboard, and Leon spreads out the note, scribbles something down on it and passes the note to Yasuhiro, who then gives it to Mondo.

As Mondo reads it, he sucks in his cheeks in an attempt at a poker face but a smirk slips out. He contributes to the note, makes it into a plane and throws it. 

The plane soars past Sayaka’s head, and she only jumps once it has flown by her completely. It seems on course but toward the end of its flight, it dips and bops the back of Aoi’s head. Aoi twitches and reaches behind her, ignoring Hifumi nearby as he flaps his hands in a wordless attempt to get her attention. She unfolds the plane and judging by the pause, she is reading what it says, and judging by how she whips her head around and stares wide-eyed behind her, the contents are somewhat disturbing.

Mondo jabs the air with his finger, pointing behind Aoi, and she glances back. Hifumi keeps waving and she turns to Mondo. Her brow furrows and she motions her thumb over her shoulder, mouthing Hifumi’s name, to which Mondo nods.

Aoi’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Asahina-kun, please face forward and focus,” says Nejireruno-sensei, making Aoi jolt.

“S-Sorry,” Aoi says, cringing, and she does as instructed.

Nejireruno-sensei returns her attention to the whiteboard, apparently having not seen the paper plane accidentally sent to Aoi. A little while later, Aoi begins writing. To those not observing her  closely, she seems to be jotting down notes, but in reality, she is writing on the plane. She refolds it after and flings it back to Mondo.

He catches it with no trouble. At the desk next to him, Yasuhiro leans in to read it too, and ahead of him, Leon twists around to join in the perusal. On the piece of paper are lines of writing, alternating in handwriting style as someone else adds their thoughts. Makoto can’t help himself - he reads it at an angle.

**Did you see his neck?**

No, why?

**Dude looks like he has a hickey.**

Then Aoi has written,

**I can’t see anything?**

Mondo writes an instruction to ‘check the side of his neck’ and tosses the plane back. Aoi receives it, reads and then peers at Hifumi’s neck, prompting Mondo to grimace.

“Not him,” mutters Mondo. She turns back to him, her brow quirked, and Mondo tears himself a clean slate of paper. He writes quickly, constructs a second paper plane, and throws it to her.

When she unfolds it, Makoto sees the name written clearly.

“Togami?” blurts Aoi.

In the other back corner of the room, Byakuya, who had been quietly taking infrequent notes, straightens from his slight slouch and jerks his head toward Aoi.

As does the rest of the class.

As does Nejireruno-sensei. 

Silence swoops down on them all like a guillotine at an execution.

Nejireruno-sensei’s eyes flicker. She marches over to Aoi and snatches the piece of paper in Aoi’s hands, then she takes the piece of paper lying on the desk. 

The sheet with only Byakuya’s name on it only requires a glance. With a frown, Nejireruno-sensei shuffles the pieces of paper and reads aloud from the other instead.

“‘Did you see his neck?’” she says. “‘No, why? Dude looks like he has a...’” 

She trails off, looking at Byakuya.

“What?” says Byakuya sharply. “What is it?”

“A hickey,” replies Aoi as she raises a quivering finger.

Byakuya blinks. Some of his annoyance dissolves off his face. His head tilts to one side and he scrunches his eyes up slightly. “What...?”

Touko bites her lip and squirms a bit, but all eyes are on Byakuya.

“On your neck,” says Leon, pointing at him. Byakuya lifts a hand and purses his lips.

“You mean this mark?” He pulls down his collar enough to reveal a bruise. “This isn’t a hickey, you fool. Yesterday, I left the library later than usual, and I was walking back in complete darkness. I lost my balance, fell into some shrubbery, and I grazed my neck.”

Several skeptical looks are exchanged around the class. Junko sticks out her chin, her eyes narrowed slits.

“Muku-chan, check it out,” instructs Junko. Kiyotaka splutters.

“We’re in the middle of class,” Kiyotaka reminds everyone, but not even Nejireruno-sensei takes his side. 

Mukuro approaches and Byakuya stays still. She examines it up close, cupping her chin, and finally draws back.

“I can see scratch marks,” she says. “It adds up. It’s not a hickey.”

Everyone exhales the breath they had been holding in.

“Of course it does. Why would it be a hickey?” scoffs Byakuya.

No one answers right away. Yasuhiro pulls the shortest straw and rubs the back of his neck.

“We just thought... you know,” he says, and he winces.

“Know what?” Byakuya glares and clenches his fists. “Who would even give me a hickey?”

The answers flood in.

“Fukawa.”

“Fukawa-chan.”

“Fukawa.”

“Fukawa-san.”

“Fukawa-chi.”

“Fukawa-kun.”

“Fukawa Touko-dono.”

And so on.

“I thought Fukawa-kun too,” admits Nejireruno-sensei, scratching her cheek.

“Same here,” Jin Kirigiri chimes in, popping his head into the room briefly.

With every syllable, Byakuya’s features harden more.

“That’s disgusting,” he says, squaring his shoulders as he pushes up his glasses. “As if I would let her, or anyone, leave such a mark on my neck. I’d rather die than let a commoner near me like that.”

Makoto shoots a glance at Touko, who has stooped her head and hunched her shoulders so no one can see her face. He feels a pang in his chest.

Nejireruno-sensei claps. 

“Okay, settle down, everyone. Let’s get back to learning,” she says.

One by one, the class averts their gazes away from Byakuya’s corner, and pens start to mutter against notebooks more frequently. Byakuya brushes his fingers against his graze, indeed received after a fall, and he thanks whatever god is out there that no one has noticed the hickey he made on Touko’s neck the previous night. It was her fault that he stayed out so late.

Unbeknownst to everyone else, Touko smiles.


End file.
